A person with anxiety sitting alone with their head resting on their knees.

As someone who’s been battling anxiety for years, I can tell you this: it’s not loud at first. Anxiety is like a silent companion that creeps up your spine without warning. And then all at once, all you know is… something’s wrong. I didn’t even recognize it for what it was. I just thought I was “too sensitive,” or “overthinking again.” But then, anxiety isn’t just worry. It’s a full-body experience. Your breath shortens, thoughts blur, hands shake from tension, not cold.

And worse?

It hides itself well. To the outside world, you’re “doing fine.” Inside, you’re breaking down.

When You’re Always Exhausted But Can’t Sleep

One of the cruelest parts of anxiety is the exhaustion it brings and not just physical fatigue but rather soul-tired. You wake up tired. You go through the day like you’re dragging an invisible weight behind you. Your brain races at 3 a.m., replaying conversations from three years ago. Your heart races during calm moments, convinced something bad is about to happen.

You want to rest but your body won’t let you. It’s like your nervous system doesn’t trust safety, even when it’s there. You feel “on edge” all the time, even in your own room.

And when you do manage to sleep?

It’s rarely peaceful. You wake up with clenched fists and heavy dreams.

Anxiety Doesn’t Always Scream

There’s a common misconception that anxiety always looks like panic attacks.

Sure, sometimes it does.

But most of the time? It’s quieter. More subtle.

It’s the sinking feeling when your phone rings, the obsessively rereading a text before hitting send, it’s avoiding eye contact, skipping meals, canceling plans you were once excited for.

It’s the little lies you tell,
“I’m just tired.”
“I’m just busy.”
“I’m okay, really.”

But inside, you’re stuck in survival mode and you don’t even know how to ask for help because you’ve become too good at pretending.

What I’ve Learned About Anxiety (The Hard Way)

I used to hate my anxiety. I fought it. Ignored it. Tried to outrun it with overachievement and perfectionism but that only made it worse.

Healing, for me, began when I stopped trying to “fix” myself and started listening instead.

Here’s what’s helped:

  • Breathing exercises (the kind that slow everything down)
  • Movement (not for fitness, but for grounding)
  • Less caffeine, more sleep.
  • Saying “no” without guilt.
  • Letting myself cry.
  • Speaking honestly when I need support.

None of these are magic.

They’re anchors and I think anchors matter when your mind is a storm.

You’re Not Too Much, You’re Just Hurting

If any of this sounds familiar, let me say this:

You are not broken. You never were.

You’re not lazy but rather you’re carrying something heavy and still showing up.

That is strength.

Anxiety feels different for everyone and that’s okay.

What matters is learning how to live gently, without shame.

You are not alone. You never were.

Also read:- Depression: Proven Strategies to Overcome It